


Waiting

by speedgriffon



Series: Dragon Age: Evelyn Cousland Fics [11]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Some Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair waits for his Queens return. (For Alistair Week, King!Alistair Day.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

Skyhold had been nothing Alistair had ever imagined. Ever since hearing about the upstart of the Inquisition a year ago and their journey from a small camp in Haven to a large and powerful army he had tried to imagine what their hold might look like. A castle he expected but not a  _fortress_.

He had run into the Inquisitor, Aurelie Trevelyan in her early travels across Fereldan—when she came to Redcliffe to recruit the mages held up by what was later revealed to be hostile Tevinter known as Venatori. That first encounter wasn’t the most diplomatic and he hadn’t had been in the best of moods for a number of reasons. Alistair considered himself lucky when Inquisitor Trevelyan accepted his written apology and as the Inquisition grew, they continued correspondence.

Alistair offered support to the cause, knowing how difficult it had been all those years ago for him and the Hero of Fereldan.  _Evelyn_. Maker—he missed his wife, his queen; gone on a last-ditch effort mission to find a cure for their blighted bodies so that they could have more years together and if possible, an heir. She had left just as the breach in the sky tore open and something within Alistair told him he wouldn’t see her again until the war was over and the lands were healed.

His support and interest in the Inquisition eventually had him included in several diplomatic talks between the nations and after the events of Halamshiral Alistair was eventually invited to Skyhold to negotiate war treaties. He was glad to get out of Denerim for longer than a few days—ever since Evelyn left the halls seemed quieter and there was a certain sadness that hung in the air. Alistair knew _he_  was partly to blame; his mood had been on a decline with each passing month she was absent from his life. It wouldn’t be so terrible if the correspondence was more frequent but Evelyn was always on the move and her ravens weren’t always reliable.

Skyhold allowed him to ignore the nagging feeling in his heart for a moment but there were constant reminders of Evelyn even miles away from the capital where they lived. Morrigan was now an advisor to the Inquisitor and while they had only briefly exchanged words Alistair was reminded it was  _her_  who made it possible for Evelyn and him to survive the blight. Leliana was somebody he talked to more than anyone else and it wasn’t soon after arriving in Skyhold that she told him she had sent scouts into the surrounding mountains—they were trying to make contact with Evelyn.

Given the Inquisition’s current dealings with the Wardens in the west, it wasn’t a surprise to Alistair that they were trying to gain information from the most  _famous_  of the Order. Even he couldn’t offer the Inquisition much when it came to the Wardens—he had traded in his griffon regalia for the crown a decade ago. The false calling mentioned in reports didn’t register with him—perhaps the distance from Orlais or the fact he was too busy running a kingdom by himself had him distracted.

The longer he stayed with the Inquisition, the more Alistair wished he could stay to help by other means. But the negotiations were over, treaties had been written and after only a week in the cool mountain fortress Alistair would be returning home to Denerim. He had his duty to the crown, regardless of his want for something else.

On his last night Alistair found himself restless and unable to sleep and yet he couldn’t pinpoint  _exactly_ what he wanted or needed. He walked across the battlements, admiring the beauty that was the Frostback Mountains at twilight. Years ago he had traveled across these lands with Evelyn and his own companions on their own quest to  _save the world_  and the more he thought about it the more it seemed like a life-time ago.

Alistair realized then that it was entirely possible that he was closer to Evelyn’s whereabouts than ever before—if Leliana’s reports were correct then the Warden-Commander, the love of his life was somewhere in the same valley, hunting down a cure he wasn’t sure was even possible. The thought almost drove him to go chase after the scouts to try and see her again. Never in all their years together had they been separated for so long and it hurt more than he expected it to.

Knowing that he was sulking and that there were still numerous reports to attend to in his chambers before leaving in the morning Alistair stalked off in the direction of the guest wing where his room was. He wasn’t paying much attention until he heard the squawking of several ravens from the rotunda, Leliana’s messengers flying out into the night sky causing him to lift his head just in time to catch a hooded figure sneaking from his room.

“Hey!” He shouted and after a moment of hesitation he chased after them.

The figure moved quickly and silently and evaded him easily, leaping over the side of the battlement wall as Alistair closed in. He leaned over the wall, widening his eyes when he found nothing—it would have been a long fall into the snowy valley miles below. He felt suspicious, unsure of what had just happened or whom he had just seen. Alistair couldn’t make out any defining marks on the person’s clothing but in reality the figure was simply gone before he had a chance to understand what had happened.

Nervously he stepped back towards his chambers where the door hung slightly open. Alistair glanced across the room, looking out for any other apparent dangers; he  _was_  King after all and more times than not his life had been in danger from assassins and others wishing to bring down the Fereldan crown. He grew more suspicious when nothing in his room seemed touched or out of place. Perhaps he had scared off his intruder before they could do anything. Instead of alerting any guards he closed the door behind him and decided to forget that the event had even happened. It wasn’t until he sat down on the large canopy bed that he noticed the  _one_  new thing in his room—a small piece of parchment left on his pillow with a griffon seal.  _Evelyn_.

“Evelyn?” He called out, not really caring if he sounded ridiculous for suspecting she was there, or had been there recently.

It wasn’t like she was going to suddenly appear just because he said her name—it hasn’t worked before, why would it work now? Alistair’s heart began to race as he grabbed at the letter, fingers clumsily breaking the wax seal open so he could read the letter and confirm his suspicions.


End file.
